The Grasslands, Wasteland, and Deep Forest

[Frisby]

This is where you roleplay out of territories, whether it be to the southwest in the deep forest with the Herb Garden, to the southeast where vast grasslands spread, or to the northeast beyond the Falls--the Wasteland. Keep the map in mind as you roleplay!

[Frisby]

Nightingale padded along the dry, dusty cliff. Yellow plumes of powdery earth billowed up behind her as she walked. Below, the cliffs dropped away to the thundering, deadly falls. To some, crossing was fatal. But if one knew the right tricks, passage was possible.

There was nothing right about the wasteland. Everything was dead, and the sun always seemed to beat down with unusual intensity. Prey was rare, and so her flanks were bony and her frame small.
For the fast few weeks she'd contemplated crossing the massive river, but fear had always held her back.

Yet everything was so lush on the other side. It was like a dream. Green. It was everywhere, and where there was green, there was prey, and life.

So here she was. She stood before the steep pathway leading down to the water, and taking a breath trotted down to the waters edge. The was one shallow spot at the lower side of the falls, and if one was fast enough, they could run and swim across before getting swept into deeper water.

/Goodbye world,/ she thought, racing forward. The water slammed into her side and she immediately was knocked sideways. Scrambling she found ground. Her heart pounded. /This is the end. / The water was unimaginably strong, smashing her from every direction. She wailed, but her claws had found purchase. The forced of the water tore her claws, they were being pulled out--She scrambled harder, fighting for her life.

The water grew weaker, but barely noticeably so. A final spurt of adrenaline let her surge forward, only to be slammed into a rock. The water beat her against it. She gasped in pain. Struggling feebly, he pulled herself along its surface. The river washed over her, shoved her against something solid and dry. Breath rattled in her throat, ragged. Though the current still tugged at her hind legs, a small spark of satisfaction flickered in her. She had made it across.

Nightengale shivered, but the movement hurt so terribly. There was stabbing, piercing pain in her chest, and her claws were bleeding out on the grounds. She tried to moan, but it was silent. Water was in her mouth, choking...

...The pain was begining to ebb a little, to her relief.

She sat content in the silent peace, unable to breath, her heart struggling...But it didn't matter.

It was soft and pressing, crushing away...

It was silent. It was dark. Blackness.

The last attempt at breath rattled from her throat.